


War Games

by Lavavulture



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavavulture/pseuds/Lavavulture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian definitely doesn't like Iron Bull.  Iron Bull definitely doesn't like Dorian.  When they discover that they both like Cole, it's clear what they have to do. (Or, what happens when Dorian and Iron Bull are too busy hitting on Cole to realize that they also have feelings for each other.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Questions

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my last run of DA:I wherein I played the game with a team composed almost always of Cole, Iron Bull, and Dorian and the last two refused to talk to each other. They were repeating dialogue options with Cole and still not triggering their banter with each other and I had to play the game longer just to get them together. At a certain point, it felt very purposeful. So this story came to mind and I finally decided to just write it already. Most of the dialogue between Cole and them is taken directly from the game (believe me, I know).

“It kills the joke if you explain it, kid,” Iron Bull complained but he was smirking in an affectionate way at Cole as Trevelyan rummaged through a sack on the ground. Dorian stood watch over him and pretended that he wasn’t listening in on their conversation. 

He certainly didn’t care that Iron Bull and Cole had been chatting like two jaybirds since they’d left camp this morning (or perhaps one jaybird and one oversized druffalo). Cole had been a bit gloomy since Trevelyan had brought him back from Redcliffe so Dorian certainly didn’t begrudge anything that might lift his spirit, even if that thing happened to be a brutish Qunari blowhard.

“How did this fit in here?” Trevelyan stood up and showed Dorian the shield in his hands. Dorian blinked and looked back down to the knapsack on the ground.

“It must be magic. We should take the sack with us.” 

“All right.” Trevelyan grinned in the charming way he had that made him look like the spitting image of a handsome prince from one of Dorian’s favorite books as a youth. Dorian didn’t think that it was fair that Trevelyan should be so handsome and so magically gifted and so terribly uninterested in anyone but Cassandra. Suddenly Trevelyan spotted something off into the distance and began sprinting towards it. 

Dorian sighed as Cole immediately began following him, apparently unconcerned about how rude Trevelyan was being, and he slowly began to make his way across the field to some nondescript ruins, same as the other dozen ruins they’d visited already on this exploration.

By the time Dorian reached the ruins Trevelyan was trying to jump up onto a rotted wooden bridge that was clearly too high up for him to reach while Cole flitted around him uncertainly. It made Dorian smile a bit. He’d never thought that he would grow to like a spirit so much but underneath his uncomfortable questions and questionable clothing choices, Cole was charming. Last night they’d talked for hours as Trevelyan and Iron Bull had spent far too much time hunting every deer they could find.

“He's going to fall flat on his ass if he keeps that up,” Iron Bull rumbled from behind Dorian. He stiffened. He’d been very careful since they’d started this trip not to engage in conversation with him. To be completely honest he’d tried to avoid him since that first awkward talk when Dorian had tried to put all his cards out on the table and Iron Bull had refused to be straight with him. What sort of Qunari would honestly claim that he didn’t really want to kill a Tevinter mage at his back, especially a Qunari who clearly derived such pleasure in killing all the other Tevinter mages they encountered?

“Indeed. It would be a sight to see,” Dorian said curtly. Cole had stopped fidgeting around and was staring up at Trevelyan with woeful eyes. Dorian gave Iron Bull a polite nod and went over to him.

“I suppose we’ll be here for a while now.” Dorian enjoyed the sight of muscular Trevelyan climbing and jumping towards something only he could see. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began wiping the blood off of the biggest buckle on his armor. That last Venatori scout had gotten far too close to him.

Cole tilted his head curiously at Dorian, watching him shine his metal buckles until they were their normal glistening perfection. “Your clothes look like the Fade, Dorian.”

“The stuff of dreams, an explosion of color and sensation wrapped in an enigma.” Dorian grinned at Cole as he spread his arms wide, inviting his eyes on every carefully selected piece.

“It’s shiny,” Cole said and actually reached out to touch one buckle.

Dorian laughed, delighted. “We could always get you some shiny clothes.”

“No,” Cole murmured thoughtfully. “I don’t think that they would like being on me as much.”

“Probably smart not to stand out in the middle of a fight,” Iron Bull interjected. 

Dorian pursed his lips in irritation. Iron Bull was leaning against one of the broken walls and rubbing his back against it like a bear. Dorian waved his hands towards Iron Bull’s rosy-pink armor. “And you would be the expert at not standing out in fight.”

Iron Bull shrugged. “I’m supposed to stand out. I want them to come at me. You two should be trying to get them to forget that you’re even there until it’s too late.”

“I always prefer to leave an impression,” Dorian snapped.

Iron Bull opened his mouth to say something else that would probably be a veiled insult disguised as confusing flirtation when Trevelyan suddenly dropped heavily down to the ground. He grimaced and then beamed at them all, opening his big hands to reveal a shiny piece of mosaic.

“Look what I found. It was just lying up there.” Trevelyan always sounded so pleased with himself. His enthusiasm was infectious. He looked around the wide courtyard of the ruins and snapped his fingers. “We should make camp here tonight.”

 

“The Iron Bull, a woman in that last village wanted you to pick her up and take her clothes off,” Cole whispered in the darkness of the tent.

Iron Bull opened his eye. He hadn’t really felt tired anyway. He sat up and found Cole curled on his side on the other side of the tent. He shrugged. “Most people do.”

Cole slid up from his bedroll and tucked his legs up against his chest. His eyes were lantern-bright in the dark. “In her mind, you were very big.”

“Well, that’s flattering.” Iron Bull regarded Cole for a curious moment. He was different since Redcliffe. The eating and the sleeping was obvious but he was also less floaty and vague. And statements like that made Iron Bull wonder what else he was interested in trying.

Sex was obviously not a vital component of being human but Iron Bull liked it pretty well and he was curious if Cole would as well. So far he’d shown little interest but that was a provocative statement.

“You curious about that sort of thing, kid? I can answer some questions for you if you wanted.”

“Like with Dorian?” Cole seemed pleased. “All right, The Iron Bull. I’ll ask you questions.”

Then Cole promptly flipped back onto his side like a fish and curled up under his blanket. He was asleep so quickly that Iron Bull barely realized what was happening before he began making soft murmuring noises.

Iron Bull sat back on his hands and watched Cole sleep. Cole was kind of cute in a pale, uncertain sort of way. He chuckled and settled back onto his bedroll. “Weird kid.”

He was very curious to hear what sorts of questions he would ask and a little frightened of when he would decide to ask them. Although if he managed to make that mouthy Vint react, Iron Bull might offer to give him a practical demonstration.

 

“Can you change your form, Cole? If you wanted to look like something else?” Dorian made a face as he pulled his boot out of some squishy marsh. This entire area was too slimy and too wet and too gray. He’d hated the Hinterlands but the Fallow Mire was far worse. Although he did think that the walking corpses were a nice change of pace from the bears and wolves.

“But I don’t want to look like something else,” Cole said. He couldn’t have looked more bedraggled if he’d tried.

“Hmm. There are magisters who'd be ecstatic if they could summon a demon who could pass for human.” Dorian imagined the faces of some of those old magisters if they ever got a look at Cole. They’d probably have heart attacks and die in the arms of their favorite slaves.

Cole frowned deeply. “They would use it to hurt people.”

“You're right about that.” Dorian swatted away another large swampy bug and matched his scowl to the one lining Cole’s pale face. “They would.”

“Cole could handle some fat Vint magister any day,” Iron Bull said suddenly, holding back in their line to slap Cole on the shoulder. 

Dorian scowled more heavily even as Cole brightened a bit under Iron Bull’s hand. He wasn’t sure why Trevelyan was so insistent on this particular configuration of companions every other time he went out to explore but Dorian was getting tired of seeing the backs of Iron Bull’s massive, sinewy shoulders for weeks at a time.

They’d still barely exchanged two words with one another and this suited Dorian just fine. He was perfectly content to talk to Cole, who was pleasant and charming and didn’t look like he could snap Dorian in two with one brawny hand.

“This clearing’s not as wet as the last one,” Trevelyan shouted back to the group. “We should camp here for the night.”

 

Iron Bull swallowed the last drop of ale from his tankard and relaxed even more in front of the fire, belching contentedly. 

“Charming,” Dorian muttered on the other side of the fire. The Vint looked like he was tempted to crawl inside the fire with the way he was shaking in the damp night air. He’d scowled when Iron Bull had dropped heavy blankets around his and Cole’s shoulders but he was burrowing inside his just fine. It was pretty cute. 

On the other hand Cole had picked at every loose strand on the blanket and then tried to cocoon a shivering scout in it before Iron Bull had given her another one. He was now letting his sit loosely over his shoulders as he peered across the fire to Iron Bull. He’d been staring for almost an hour now, which was disconcerting with his unblinking eyes but Iron Bull found that he didn’t mind that much. 

“I like your horns, the Iron Bull,” Cole said suddenly. “But they're dragon horns, not bull horns. You could have named yourself the Iron Dragon.”

Iron Bull was so stunned by the idea that he couldn’t speak for a few moments. “Oh, shit. That would have been better.”

He leveled a wide grin down on Cole and imagined living in a world where he was called the Iron Dragon by everybody he met. It was probably the most erotic thing he’d ever imagined and it made him almost dizzy with sudden arousal. Iron Bull stood up so abruptly that Trevelyan was almost startled awake beside him.

“I’m going to bed. Let’s leave the Boss out here tonight, okay?” Iron Bull didn’t even wait for Dorian or Cole to respond before he stomped over to the tent he was sharing with Trevelyan. 

He imagined that world for most of the rest of the night, with great enthusiasm. And if he imagined a pale, earnest demon calling him the Iron Dragon a few times, well, there couldn’t be any harm in that. They were just some harmless fantasies.

 

“This is incredible. I’m never moving from this spot again.” Dorian raised his face up to the warm water pouring down in the natural hot springs of the Forbidden Oasis. Finally the Herald had taken him somewhere that was at least not completely freezing or disgusting for once. He could do without the sand and he’d kill for one intact library but he wouldn’t say anything because Dorian Pavus was not a complainer. 

Dorian sighed in pleasure under the water and let his shoulders relax down into a pressurized jet. He kept his eyes far away from where Trevelyan and the Iron Bull were playfully splashing each other. Playfully was probably the wrong word since Iron Bull had nearly submerged Trevelyan with his energetic dunking but they were both laughing. Iron Bull had a deep, rolling laugh that irritated Dorian. They were trying to relax today, not guffaw like bass-voiced donkeys.

“Dorian, am I handsome?” Cole asked him just when he’d managed to block out the sound of Iron Bull chortling like an enormous child.

“Are you what?” Dorian rose back up from the water, sputtering a bit when he swallowed a mouthful.

Cole tilted his head at him curiously. Against all reason Cole had decided to wear his hat into the hot springs and it shadowed his long face as he stared at Dorian.

“You say you're handsome all the time. Am I? I can't tell.”

Dorian felt his lips curl into a gentle smile. Cole was such an odd, sweet creature. He looked him over in frank contemplation (there was no point in giving Cole a placation like anyone else would have wanted). He was long and leanly-muscled in the water with strong hips and lovely, broad shoulders. Dorian said brightly, “You're all right. Might want to rethink the hats.”

“But I like my hats!” Cole reached for the sides of his hat with both hands as though it was under attack and Dorian laughed.

“All right, keep the hats. They might grow on people.” Dorian let his fingers drift through the water lazily. “Why do you want to know?”

Cole thought about it for a moment and then glanced over to Trevelyan and Iron Bull still furiously trying to drown each other. “I think it might be nice if I was handsome.”

Dorian followed his eyes and was unsettled in some way that he couldn’t explain as he watched Cole stare at Iron Bull’s massive, strong body. All of a sudden he wished they weren’t all quite so naked and quite so wet.

That night Dorian stretched out in his bedroll, feeling warm and comfortable for the first time in what seemed like months. He propped his head up on his palm and watched Cole burrow deeper under his blanket. He wondered if it was just his imagination or if Cole really was interested in the Iron Bull. Could spirits actually do that? Normally Dorian would have asked him just to satisfy his curiosity but the idea made him feel distinctively unsettled.

The Iron Bull was rude and brutish and swaggered around like he was some sort of ancient fertility god come to life. No one in his right mind would even entertain the fantasy of getting involved with that arrogant behemoth.

As Dorian watched, Cole sighed softly in his sleep and brought one of his hands up close to his face. He wasn’t entirely unhandsome, Dorian thought as he examined his pointed chin and soft mouth. He wondered if Cole had ever kissed anyone with that brand-new mouth. If he hadn’t it would be a waste for the first one to be shared with a Qunari, who couldn’t possibly understand what a moment that should be. The Qunari probably didn’t even kiss.

That settled it. Dorian rolled onto his back and narrowed his eyes up at the tent. He wasn’t going to let the Iron Bull seduce and tumble Cole like he was one of those dewy-eyed serving girls. If anybody was going to show Cole all the pleasures of the flesh, it should be him, and if that one-eyed bastard had a problem with it, then Dorian was going to show him that he wasn’t some soft, spoiled magister waiting for the invasion.

Dorian Pavus was a fighter. And he was spoiling for a victory.

 

Iron Bull stretched up and rolled his shoulders, grinning a bit as he noticed how Cole followed his movements with keen eyes. The kid still hadn’t asked him any questions about sex after their talk in the tent a few weeks ago but he was starting to think that he was figuring out the answers all on his own. He didn’t mind. He’d let Cole figure himself out a little more and then if it seemed like he was interested in a little practical demonstration, well, that suited Iron Bull just fine. He loved to lend a helping hand.

He rolled his shoulders one more time just to show off a bit and then leaned his head forward towards Cole. “All right, Cole, so when we run into a big guy with a shield…”

“You are big, boasting, battering, and I blend behind, daggers in darkness, one-two-three,” Cole said immediately, his thin face eager as he clenched his daggers. He was practically vibrating with energy as he demonstrated a few thrusts with his knives. Iron Bull could think of a few dozen ways to burn some of that energy off.

“Assuming that actually means what I think it does, great!” Iron Bull clapped Cole on the back enthusiastically and nodded when he only rocked forward a few inches before righting himself. The kid was a tough bastard. He liked that.

“Your master strategy is to paint a bullseye on your forehead and let other people do your dirty work?” Dorian sniffed slightly as he polished his staff for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Iron Bull narrowed his eye at him. He’d already dropped devastating innuendo on Dorian regarding his stave earlier in the day. At this point, he thought the Vint was doing it on purpose like the sexy tease he was.

“By all means, why don’t you share some of that winning Vint strategy with us?” Iron Bull crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

“I wouldn’t want to tax you so late in the day. My strategies involve a certain degree of subtlety,” Dorian said in a haughty voice that raised the skin on the back of Iron Bull’s neck. The mage was a real brat, begging for some discipline. 

“Whatever you say, big guy.” Iron Bull shrugged. He was about to suggest to Cole that they go through their moves a few times just for practice when Dorian stood up and came close.

“Cole, I wonder if you might lend me a helping hand,” Dorian said. His tone was warm and cajoling as he lightly clasped Cole’s elbow. Iron Bull watched Cole’s face brighten like a star at the prospect of helping. “I want to practice my barrier spells a little more and it’s really much easier if I have someone to practice them on. Would you let me try a few?”

“Magic likes to slip under my skin and sing to my insides,” Cole murmured, sounding intrigued by the notion. “It feels nice.”

“Oh, really?” Dorian sounded casual but as he led Cole away he flashed Iron Bull an inscrutable look that nevertheless immediately told him exactly what was happening here.

Well. That was interesting. Iron Bull rubbed his chin and considered. He’d normally never stand in the way of someone wanting to bed another person, even if it was somebody he’d been eying. There were plenty of people in the world and it was definitely not healthy to get attached to a person just because of sex. The Tamassrans had always made that very clear.

However he found he didn’t really like the idea of letting Dorian have his own way. Of course it was all Cole’s decision at the end of the day but that slick Vint was clever and was used to talking his way into situations. It wouldn’t be right to just stand by and watch Dorian seduce Cole without even showing him that there were other, less magical options. It probably wouldn’t even be healthy for a demon to take it up with a mage. Dorian might accidentally banish him in the middle of sex. Or worse.

That settled it. Iron Bull squared his jaw and committed himself to a new strategy. He was going to show Cole how nice some good, honest, bed-breaking fucking could be and if that arrogant mage had a problem with that, well, the Iron Bull was going to show him that he didn’t roll over onto his back when some fancy Vint offered up a challenge.

The Iron Bull was a fighter. And he never lost a fight.


	2. Answers

“I wonder what this says.” Dorian traced his fingers into the worn grooves of the markings on the temple wall. He could hear Trevelyan and Iron Bull talking loudly in the next room about the temple traps but he ignored them. He really would have thought that a gifted mage like Trevelyan would be a little more interested in a place with so much historical and mystical potential but the Inquisitor seemed dead-set on just getting through the temple rooms as quickly as he could shove the shards into the doors.

From behind him Cole reached out and slipped his own fingers against the grooves. Dorian admired those long fingers, bare above the torn scraps of the gloves the Inquisitor had given him the other day. He had a lovely shape to his hands and Dorian couldn’t help but imagine him curling those fine fingers around him. 

His seduction had progressed rather slowly, to Dorian’s disappointment. It wasn’t that he was afraid of spooking Cole away—the spirit was openly curious about sex rather than nervous and Dorian didn’t think he would be hesitant to explore it if asked—but he really hadn’t had much of an opportunity lately. Exploring the temple in the Forbidden Oasis was fascinating work and he hadn’t been able to distract himself away from it, helpful and sweet as Cole was as he followed him around. 

“They want us to leave,” Cole murmured as he touched the wall. Dorian turned to him but Cole was staring down at the ground, his hat hiding everything but the soft frown of his mouth. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

“Can you read this?” Dorian asked eagerly. The thought was more seductive than anything he could imagine. The idea of lying with his head in Cole’s lap as Cole read from some ancient manuscript made his body twist in sudden pleasure.

Cole seemed to think about it and then finally shook his head. “The words…know what they mean and I can hear the warning under the hands that made them but I can’t read the marks like the words in Varric’s books.”

“Pity that. It might be better reading,” Dorian said but smiled to lessen the insult and hide his disappointment. It slid off of his face in the next instant when he realized he could no longer hear the cacophonous sound of Trevelyan and Iron Bull stomping all over ancient history. “Did they leave us behind?”

Cole twirled around, his daggers in his hands so quickly that Dorian didn’t even see him reach for them. Dorian saw why almost as quickly as two slow shades slithered into the room. Cole dove straight for the tallest one, his daggers a blur around it. The creature moaned in pain and lashed out but Cole was already gone by the time that his great claws hit the air. Dorian broke out of his surprise and snapped his stave out for a quick fire spell on the other one.

The shades were clearly already injured so the battle was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Cole finished his off with a sharp and sickening upward slice from behind while Dorian efficiently set up a wall of fire just as his wraith recovered enough to slump towards him. He narrowed his eyes at its pained squeal and clenched his fist tighter around his staff—he wasn’t opposed to getting a little physical if necessary but he hated touching those things—but the creature thankfully collapsed midway through the flames. 

“Well, that was anticlimactic. This temple is going to have to do a little better than that if it wants to keep us out.” Dorian swung his staff back into place and kicked the wraith aside. 

Cole was quiet as Dorian came close to him. He was looking at his hand intently, his shadowed face downturned as he spread out his fingers.

“Are you hurt? Let me see.” Dorian took Cole’s hand in his own and examined his palm. Blood was seeping up through his ripped gloves and as Dorian touched his palm, Cole made a soft sound of pain. “Did it bite you?”

Cole shook his head, watching as Dorian pulled off the glove and examined the wound more closely. “The floor bit me when I fell before. I thought that the skin was together again but it broke when I hit the shade.”

Cole clenched his fist and almost glared at his hand as if his body was betraying him by not healing instantly. Dorian supposed that it probably did feel like that. He pursed his lips and tore a long patch of cloth from the bottom of his robes. Cole’s head snapped up and he looked astounded.

“Not a word, fascinating as I’m sure it would be. If you ruin clothes, you get new ones. I like that part better anyway.” Dorian wrapped the cloth around Cole’s hand several times. When he was done some impulse caused him to turn Cole’s hand over and press his lips to his bare knuckles for an instant. The skin was cool to the touch and smoother than he would have thought.

When Dorian pulled away Cole was staring directly at him, hat upturned slightly so that Dorian could see his surprised face. The surprise turned to a shy sort of pleasure as Cole touched the skin where Dorian’s mouth had been. “That made my flesh feel strange.”

“Strange? How insulting. I’ll have you know that I’m famous for my kisses.” Dorian tried to keep a mock frown on his face but it moved automatically to a smirk as Cole continued to rub the tops of his knuckles. He had moved closer to Dorian and his pointed face was tilted towards him, his worried mouth parted slightly.

Dorian didn’t know if Cole moved to him or he had moved to Cole but he was definitely the one that closed the final inch to press his mouth up, kissing that parted mouth with delicious gentleness. Cole’s lips were as soft as they looked and they pressed to his with artless tenderness. Dorian murmured his approval as he deepened the kiss, as eager to explore this as the oldest mysteries of the Fade. The soft sound that Cole made in response was an arousing encouragement and Dorian would have wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders, would have led him back to the wall, and explored further if noise hadn’t then exploded from the other room.

They pulled away just as Trevelyan and Iron Bull rushed into the room. Trevelyan looked devastated as he saw the shades on the ground.

“Are you two all right? We didn’t realize you were so far away. Or that these two bastards escaped from us.” Trevelyan kicked the shades hard.

“Perfectly fine,” Dorian said smoothly, moving to obscure Cole from sight just a little. Iron Bull had looked only briefly at the shades before turning the full force of his attention on them. Dorian didn’t know if the Qunari was as observant as he claimed to be but he didn’t want to cheapen the moment he and Cole had shared by turning it into a win in his favor. Even if it was.

“These two can take care of themselves, Boss,” Iron Bull said with a rumble. He looked faintly amused and uncharacteristically thoughtful, which Dorian thought was a bad look on him. He should stick to what he was best at, like tearing things apart and drinking too loudly. Thoughtfulness almost made his rough face handsome with how unnatural it looked.

“Of course.” Trevelyan rubbed his neck. “Let’s just get out of here. I’m out of shards. I think there were more on the Storm Coast! We should head there next.”

Dorian almost groaned in disappointment but he felt Cole touch his smallest finger lightly as they began moving out. He looked and Cole wasn’t smiling—he never seemed to smile—but his melancholy face looked much less melancholy than usual. Suddenly the idea of traipsing about in the wet and the cold didn’t seem quite as bad.

 

“I think that’s the last of them here,” Trevelyan said as he shoved the glittering shard into his pack. He glanced at them all with a proud grin, as though he thought they would share in his joy at a job well-done. Iron Bull shrugged at him. He’d been just as happy to never again look through a magical skull or scale a building for a shard or step foot in a trap-laden temple.

“It better be,” Dorian grumbled, rubbing his hand against a dead soldier’s coat to get rid of the dirt covering it. “We’ve been at this for days.”

Iron Bull ran through a full gamut of biting remarks—most of them involving magic or slaves—but Cole’s hand on his arm distracted him. The kid was using him to pull himself up onto the rock beside Iron Bull so he could look out at the water hitting the rocks. He looked astounded at the sight. Bull smiled a bit and reached out to slip his fingers around Cole’s belt as he leaned forward for a better look. “Careful, kid, that’s a long way down.”

“I won’t fall,” Cole said firmly. “The ground here is steady, stable, and still. It’s too high for the water to take it away now and we’ll all be gone before it reaches it.”

“Hope so.” Iron Bull glanced over to see Dorian irritably opening his pack when Trevelyan yanked out some iron from the ground. He knew something had happened between Cole and Dorian when they were in the temple but since they’d hit the Storm Coast, Trevelyan had been uncharacteristically eager to discuss magical topics. He’d kept Dorian at his side day and night. 

This suited Iron Bull just fine—and not just because frustrated was a good look on Dorian. He’d been watching Cole, wondering what tack to take, and he’d nearly picked a game plan. Normally Iron Bull let people come to him. Seduction wasn’t that enjoyable when there was actual sex to be had and he had little interest in pursuing someone when so many people were intrigued enough by the idea of a Qunari in their bed to invite him there outright.

But Cole didn’t really strike him as the type to come to anyone. If Dorian and he had done something in that creepy temple, it had certainly been at the Vint’s sexy direction. And Iron Bull had already decided that he wasn’t going to just watch Cole fall into bed with the mage just because he showed interest. Kid deserved choices.

Cole’s shoulders slumped a little as he leaned back against Iron Bull’s hand and sighed. The sound held a tinge of pain in it and it made Iron Bull turn his attention back to him. “You doing all right, Cole?”

“The bandit pulled me before you pulled him apart and now my spine won’t fit together the same way. It’s loud.” Cole tried reaching behind himself to rub his upper back and tensed in clear pain. 

“Hmmmm.” Iron Bull pulled Cole a little further away from the edge of the rocks and spread his fingers wide against his back. Nothing seemed to be broken or torn but he could imagine how sore Cole was. He always threw himself so fiercely into every fight, heedless of the size or strength of his opponent. It was, Iron Bull thought, one of his most endearing features. Iron Bull ran his hand up, pleased at the long shiver it pulled from Cole, and patted him on the shoulder. “I can fix it. Back in the tent. Let’s go.”

Iron Bull glanced briefly over to Trevelyan and Dorian but they were still deep in a discussion about something magical and weird. They were so close to camp that Iron Bull didn’t feel bad about leading Cole away, cutting through the sand and rocks until they reached their tent. Nightfall was coming quickly and nobody gave them more than a cursory glance as they slipped into the tent.

He sat Cole down on the floor in front of him and set his hat on the ground before he went to work. At the first touch of his thumbs on the back of Cole’s neck, the kid let out a little hiss but as Iron Bull began gently pressing into the resisting flesh, he relaxed. Soon Cole’s head was lolling forward as Iron Bull worked his way down his long back. The muscles were strong but tense under his hands and Iron Bull wanted to replace his fingers with his tongue, soothing and slick until Cole was completely malleable against him.

“How does it feel now?” Iron Bull asked, keeping his voice low. He thought about telling Cole to take his shirt off so that he could really dig into those tight muscles but he resisted. He hadn’t seen the signal he was waiting for yet, the one that would tell him just exactly what Cole wanted and needed. He could wait.

Cole sighed in pleasure, pressing back against him. “Better. Everything wants me to be more careful now. All the little pains grab each other and talk to me at night when I want to sleep.”

“That’s just being a good warrior. It takes a toll on you but it’s worth it.” Iron Bull could feel the pain down in his ankle flare at his attention and the phantom ache of his missing digits throbbed fresh. He distracted himself from it by eyeing a small scar on Cole’s neck, visible as he let his head fall further forward. Cole pressed against him, more insistent and sighed again. Iron Bull rubbed his thumb over that scar, pressing carefully but firmly along the skin.

Cole shuddered hard and then turned his head, glancing at Iron Bull from the side of his face. “The Iron Bull, do you like kissing?”

The question was said softly but not shyly and Iron Bull paused. “It can be good. Do you?”

“Yes,” Cole murmured and twisted around in the circle of Iron Bull legs. He leaned up and pressed his mouth lightly to Iron Bull’s lips, the kiss feather-soft and hesitant. The hesitance turned to eagerness almost immediately. Iron Bull let Cole kiss him for a few moments, sliding his big hands down to rest on Cole’s hips. It was sweet and simple and Iron Bull definitely liked it but he knew what he would like more. 

When Cole finally slowed down his gentle kisses and began to pull away, Iron Bull made his own move. He firmed the grip one of his hands had on Cole’s hip and raised the other one up to cup the back of his head. He pulled Cole against him and took his mouth with a tightly controlled fierceness. Cole moaned in surprise against his lips even as they parted to let Iron Bull inside, testing and rewarding every small reaction. He wanted to pull Cole up onto his lap, to press him down against his awakening cock but he kept his focus on the kissing, demonstrating exactly what he wanted with every forceful sweep of his tongue.

Iron Bull pulled away when Cole’s fingers began to dig into the skin on his shoulders, when his breathing had turned quick and heated. He’d gotten the signal he was looking for and he’d be eager to show Cole just exactly what he’d shown Iron Bull he needed but there would be time later. He’d answered his invitation but he wanted to make sure that Cole understood exactly what he was asking for and in a tent in the middle of camp was no place for that.

“Think about that, kid,” Iron Bull said, setting Cole aside so that he could stand up. “I’m happy to show you more back home if you want.”

Cole nodded slowly, eyes big and focused on him. Iron Bull hooked his thumb into his belt and considered him on the ground. He could hear Trevelyan and Dorian talking as they came into camp. The Vint sounded exasperated, as per usual. He turned his head towards the sound. That guy needed to learn to relax a little. When he turned his head back he saw that Cole was looking the same direction. It gave him pause but he shrugged it off in the next moment. He’d said his piece and now it was up to Cole. 

The kid was smart. He’d make the right decision. 

 

“Smell that? You don’t get smells like that in the cities. Probably because we do everything we can to get rid of it.” Varric made a face as he set another bolt on his crossbow and let it go flying towards a rage demon charging towards them.

Iron Bull grunted and slammed his hammer down onto the demon’s back. It snapped with a loud crack and dissolved back into the rift.

“Oh, good, now we get to hear your opinion on smells in addition to sights and sounds and everything else,” Dorian said, lazily flicking fireballs at the wraith across the battlefield. “I’m so happy that Trevelyan asked you to come this time.”

“I asked Cole to come,” Trevelyan said distractedly as he set up a lightning spell. “He said that Varric should come instead.”

“Kid’s a traitor. He knows I hate the Oasis.” Varric shook his head. “He probably got distracted by some argument down in the kitchens and wanted to stay to play peacemaker.”

“Probably,” Trevelyan agreed and began closing the rift with a dramatic twist of his glowing hand. He set his hands on his hips when it closed and beamed. “Now we can go back to the temple.”

“Fantastic. Can’t wait to see this monster-infested magic temple firsthand instead of just hearing about it at Skyhold next to the fire.” Varric shook his head.

Dorian accidentally locked eyes with Iron Bull as they made their way towards the tunnels leading to the temple. As they listened to Varric complain about the tightness of the tunnels and the general lack of light, they surprised one another by simultaneously rolling their eyes. Dorian surprised himself even more when he didn’t think that Iron Bull looked completely ridiculous doing it.

It was probably just because they were so used to traveling together at this point—or it might have been to give themselves distance from Varric’s increased complaining as they moved deeper into the caves—but they naturally fell back to walk side-by-side.

“Why do you think that Cole told Trevelyan that Varric should come this time?” Dorian asked in the wake of a shockingly comfortable silence.

Iron Bull thought about it and shrugged his big shoulders. “Who knows what goes through his head? Maybe he just wanted to get Varric off his ass for once.”

Dorian laughed and the two of them went together into the forbidding temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cole's a little fucking schemer, you guys.


	3. Review

Dorian let the sweet wine linger on his tongue, closing his eyes in sudden pleasure, before he finally swallowed the last drop. Only once it had slipped down his throat and settled warm in his stomach did Dorian consent to reaching out to play his final move. He knocked over an elaborate white piece on the board and settled his black statue in its spot. His spread his hands flat on the table and smirked. “I believe that this means I win.”

On the other side of the table, Iron Bull chugged the rest of the wine from the bottle and slapped his hand down hard onto the wooden surface. Three tables away the Chargers murmured to one another and then broke into a raucous song about busty queens.

“Not bad, big guy,” Iron Bull said and rolled his massive shoulders. He leaned back and stared down into their empty bottle, apparently not as disappointed about losing the game as he was about the lack of booze.

If someone had told Dorian a few weeks ago that he would be sitting with Iron Bull at the tavern in Skyhold, playing games and having civil conversation, he might have set them on fire just on principle. However at some point during their last expedition—maybe between the temple traps and Varric’s endless complaints—Dorian had realized that Iron Bull wasn’t quite the obnoxious blowhard he’d thought that he was. Undoubtedly he was still an arrogant, blustering behemoth but Dorian could admit, privately if nowhere else, that it no longer bothered him as much as it had before.

“Of course. Now I believe you own me that bottle of Antivan bourbon you snuck into your bag when we were at the Storm Coast.” Dorian smirked even heavier when Iron Bull scowled, clearly having hoped that he would forget the terms of their wager when they’d begin playing. 

He certainly hadn’t forgotten. He had fine plans for that bourbon. Dorian let his gaze float up briefly to the third floor but he still didn’t catch a glimpse of Cole. The spirit had been scarce since Iron Bull and Dorian had returned from their last mission with the Inquisitor, Varric still complaining on their heels. He wondered if he was nervous about what Varric would say.

It was no matter. Dorian planned on luring him out and plying him with just a taste of that rich, rolling bourbon. The idea of introducing Cole to such a lavish treat, of tasting the heavy flavor on his lips and knowing that Iron Bull had unwillingly made it happen, was so wonderful that it made Dorian almost polite as he stood to let the Qunari out of the small space.

Tonight he also planned on introducing Cole to much finer activities than drinking. He may have begun to think that Iron Bull wasn’t quite as terrible as he’d seemed at their first meeting but if anything that had only increased his determination to win Cole for himself. 

The Chargers stared holes into Dorian’s back as he followed Iron Bull up the stairs and too late he realized what they must have been thinking. Probably what everybody in the tavern was thinking. The idea that people would assume that he would fall into bed with Iron Bull was so amusing that he almost chuckled as they reached his door.

“I was saving that stuff for a special occasion,” Iron Bull said wistfully as he opened his door. 

Dorian was going to make a brilliant remark but Iron Bull had come to a complete stop in the doorway, taking up every available inch with his huge body. Before Dorian could protest, Iron Bull turned his head back towards him and narrowed his eye. “Maybe you should come back later.”

“What? No, I won. I’m not going to let you wriggle your way out of our wager.” Dorian would have shoved at Iron Bull’s back—useless as that would have been—but Iron Bull just shrugged at his words.

“I warned you,” he said and turned enough that Dorian could see inside the room.

To where Cole was sitting on Iron Bull’s bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as he peered curiously at them. Cole clutched at his shirtsleeve as he spoke, “Hello.”

 

“Hello,” Cole said, his voice soft as he stared at Iron Bull and Dorian in the doorway. 

Iron Bull breathed out hard through his nose in surprise. He couldn’t pretend that this hadn’t been exactly what he’d been hoping for tonight—hoping and planning and fantasizing until he’d been too distracted to play a proper game of chess—but he hadn’t imagined that Dorian would have been at his side in this moment. At least not outside of some of his more elaborate dreams.

The kid looked tense on his bed but determined and it made Iron Bull ache to see him. He turned to Dorian, half-wanting to say whatever would make him feel better about having lost the competition between them and half-wanting to just shove him out of the room so that he could pin Cole to the bed and finally get this thing started. 

“Oh!” Dorian said, a loud exhalation more than a word. His eyes were wide as he stared at Cole and even though he was clearly trying to hide his disappointment, it was obvious on his face. “Oh, I see.”

Iron Bull frowned. He didn’t like this emotional shit. He didn’t want to feel bad for Dorian and he was surprised that Cole of all people would have settled things like this. He didn’t say anything though. The kid hadn’t owed either of them anything and he supposed that Cole really didn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. 

Cole tilted his head. “See what?”

“See that I’m intruding.” Dorian’s fine lips had curved into that smug half-smile he employed at every occasion but his voice had an edge to it. “I’ll just head back downstairs and try my luck with that watered-down swill Cabot sells.”

“Why?” Cole was frowning heavily as he stared at Dorian, incomprehension clear on his face. “You wanted to have sex with me tonight. Are we not?”

Iron Bull blinked hard. He felt like he was missing a step and from the baffled look that Dorian gave him, he was clearly on the same lost page. Iron Bull crossed his arms over his chest and firmed his voice to the steel he’d planned on using in a different way later tonight. “Kid, what the hell are you playing at?”

Cole shook his head hard. If Iron Bull and Dorian were confused, it was nothing compared to the complete bafflement evident in Cole. “I don’t understand. You talked and touched like friends in the temple with Varric and the Inquisitor. You’re people instead of countries now. We can all fit together now.”

A sharp sting of sudden arousal shot up through Iron Bull as he realized what Cole was saying. He couldn’t pretend that the idea didn’t sound pretty appealing.

At his side Dorian looked much less convinced. His half-smirk had turned into a perplexed frown and he shook his head. “Cole, I don’t think you understand what we wanted.”

“Yes, I do,” Cole said and a faint flush colored his cheeks before he lowered his head. “You wanted me to cling and gasp while you showed each other that you were you and not the symbols in your mind. I can do that. I want to do that.”

Dorian made a frustrated scoffing noise but Iron Bull couldn’t help but notice the interest on his face as he looked at Cole on the bed. He didn’t blame him. Iron Bull made a decision.

“Works for me,” he said in a low rumble, turning slightly in a way that gave Dorian more space to move away if he wanted but also let him see the full size of him, strong and confident in the small room. He let his lips curl into a heavy, suggestive grin as he jutted his chin at Dorian. “I’ll bet the kid will like what I can do way more than anything you’ve got, mage boy.”

In the first moment, Iron Bull thought that Dorian was going to stomp out of the room. And that would have been disappointing but he would have managed to find a way to salvage the evening. However after a beat, Dorian lost the uncertain expression on his face. His lovely shoulders straightened and he gave Iron Bull a fierce, challenging look that heated his blood almost as much as anticipation for what was about to happen. 

“I highly doubt that,” Dorian said, his bluster on full-blast. “We invented this sort of thing in the Imperium.”

 

Despite his confident words, Dorian still felt a little overwhelmed as he turned his attention back on Cole. As their eyes met, Cole curled his hands together and scooted down the end of the bed, throwing his legs over the edge. He didn’t seem hesitant but there was nervousness in his demeanor that alleviated some of Dorian’s concerns. Cole was Cole. Of course he would make this whole thing as odd as possible.

Dorian walked the few feet in the room that took him in front of Cole and he lifted his chin up when Cole began to tilt it down towards the ground. Around the growing excitement, he still wanted to make sure that the spirit really knew what he was doing. He kept his voice low, conspiratorial between them even though he knew Iron Bull could hear everything. “Are you certain that this is what you want?”

“Yes,” Cole said and shuddered. Dorian suddenly realized that what he’d mistaken for nervousness was actually eager, desperate anticipation. The realization electrified every nerve in his body until he was almost humming with growing arousal.

“You wicked creature,” Dorian murmured approvingly and kissed him. This wasn’t the soft, exploratory kisses they’d shared before. This was fierce and sensual, tongues winding around each other in a silken slide that made Dorian ache. He slid his hand from Cole’s chin to his side and let the other hand caress its way to the strong muscles of his back. Cole was really rather more fit than he appeared at first glance. Dorian had a sudden image of clutching at those surprisingly firm muscles as the spirit took him and it made him kiss him harder. Cole moaned into his mouth.

A hand on his back broke him away from his imaginings. “Not bad. But I think it’s my turn.”

Dorian pulled away from Cole reluctantly and gave Iron Bull a reproachful glare. The Qunari just smirked at him, the arrogant peacock, and patiently waited for him to back up enough so that he could take the space in front of Cole.

Iron Bull turned his full attention on Cole, who shivered at the look on his face. Iron Bull didn’t touch him right away. He just looked him over, slow and deliberate, before he finally reached out, grabbing Cole’s hips and pulling him flush against his big body. “You like that showy Vint stuff?”

Cole nodded eagerly. “Dorian kisses like the heart of the rift. It burns and sings and pulls at every part of me.”

“Flatterer,” Dorian said, one of his hands idly caressing his chest as he watched. It was a better sight than he wanted to admit, brutish Iron Bull effortlessly manhandling Cole into exactly the position he wanted him in.

“Try this instead,” Iron Bull said and pulled Cole up into a harsh, punishing kiss. It was immediately electrifying, both obviously for Cole, who moaned weakly under the relentless assault, and for Dorian, who couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way that Iron Bull controlled every second of their kiss. He clutched the back of Cole’s head, which set his hat flying off to the side of the bed, and took his mouth with a singular passion and force.

Dorian could almost feel the kiss himself before Iron Bull finally pulled away. He arranged his face into an appropriately disinterested expression as Iron Bull glanced back at him. One of his huge hands was still tight on Cole’s hip, his thumb rubbing a little circle as Cole stared up at him and tried to breathe.

“What else you got?” Iron Bull asked Dorian. 

 

Iron Bull watched as Dorian murmured soothingly into Cole’s ear as the spirit gasped out a sharp exhalation of stunned pleasure. He was pulling at Cole’s hips, not too forcefully but enough to make it clear that he was eager to get him to move deeper inside him. The kid was holding on pretty well, considering it was his first time inside the tight, grasping heat of someone’s body. Dorian certainly seemed pleased by the whole thing.

“Pretty good,” Iron Bull muttered, fisting his cock lazily as he watched Cole rise up onto his hands and really thrust with some effort behind it. Dorian dug one of his hands into Cole’s broad back and groaned gloatingly towards Iron Bull. It pulled him towards them moving together on the bed. He put his hand right under Dorian’s on Cole’s back. “Mind if I get in on this?”

“Please, all together, reaching and-and pressing.” Cole’s spine curved up into Iron Bull’s hand and his hips stuttered to a stop. Dorian nearly growled in disapproval and gave Iron Bull a haughty glower but he didn’t protest as Cole moaned in surprise at the fingers pressing inside him. Iron Bull spread him wet and open just the way Dorian had patiently, eagerly, led him through earlier before pressing himself onto Cole’s cock with delicious relief.

Iron Bull didn’t spend too much time twisting his fingers inside Cole’s eager body. The kid was already pushed to his limits and he wanted to get inside him before he spilled in Dorian. That would have felt too much like the mage had won their little competition. Dorian obviously felt the same way as he watched with lust-darkened eyes over Cole’s shoulder as Iron Bull replaced his fingers with the thick head of his cock and began to push inside.

“Oh!” Cole’s cry was as shocked as it was exultant. He pressed his face against Dorian’s neck, who broke his focused eye-contact with Iron Bull in order to whisper softly into his ear once again, his tongue snaking out to lick along the shell. Cole was a steady stream of whimpers and moans as Iron Bull pushed fully inside him.

“Not bad, I suppose,” Dorian said in a thick voice, his hand sliding up to curl protectively around Cole’s neck. “But do you intend to do anything down there or was that it?”

“You’ve got a real smart mouth, Vint. Don’t you worry your pretty head about me; I know what I’m doing.” Despite his words, Iron Bull didn’t immediately start moving. He waited until Cole’s startled gaps settled, waited until he was sure that Cole was ready to handle such an incredible amount of stimulation. Only when Cole began moving fitfully back against him, unintentionally grinding himself against Dorian in a way that made the mage moan, did Iron Bull finally consent to moving in and almost out of Cole’s ass.

Cole’s reaction was intense, an explosion of shocked sound and movement that made Dorian’s light eyes go wide in response. Iron Bull couldn’t help but flash the mage a triumphant smirk. He had Cole’s number all right. He had both of their numbers. Iron Bull spread his fingers wide on Cole’s hips and began working in earnest.

He knew that Cole wouldn’t last long. The strain was clear along his long back and what little Iron Bull could see of his face, buried against Dorian’s long neck, was red with shock and pleasure. Dorian tried to maintain a controlled façade but as Iron Bull’s forceful thrusts pushed Cole deeper and deeper into him, the mage’s pretty mouth began to slack open to allow throaty groans out.

“The dreams didn’t feel like this,” Cole mumbled against Dorian’s neck. “They were vague and-and—oh, please—void of these aches and I wanted to be a bridge between but—yes, ah—I didn’t know it would feel so good.”

That was apparently the declaration Cole needed to make before he seized up completely, his long body tensing between them like tripwire before he snapped. Dorian closed his eyes and leaned his head back in clear delight as Iron Bull rode Cole through the last heady twitch of his orgasm. His hand was working quickly between his and Cole’s body until Dorian also tensed—beautifully—and he came with a loud cry. 

Iron Bull growled at the sight of both of the men losing themselves to their pleasure and thrust a few dozen more times into Cole’s suddenly limp body, grunting out approval when Cole moaned weakly at the sensation. He came hard, his fingers digging into Cole’s hips, his eye locked with Dorian’s intense stare.

The three of them panted together in the aftermath, slow awareness returning to tell them that they were sticky and hot in the crumbling room. Iron Bull pulled away first, almost stumbling over to a carafe of water that was waiting on his dresser. His whole body felt like it’d been through a storm. As Iron Bull poured himself a glass of water he watched Dorian caress Cole’s back as he murmured sweet assurances into his oblivious ear. Cole just sank deeper against him in response, exhaustion lining every inch of his long body. He somehow managed to fall asleep in the time it took Iron Bull to come back to the bed.

Dorian and Iron Bull stared at each in growing shock as Cole lay sated and satisfied between them.

“I think he won,” Iron Bull said finally, handing Dorian a glass of water before sitting down on the bed. He ran his hand over Cole’s long back and was charmed when he murmured sleepily before stilling.

“I think he did too,” Dorian said and then laughed. He stretched out as best he could under Cole’s weight and pursed his lips at Iron Bull. “But I’ll certainly win next time.”

“Don’t count on it. I was taking it easy this time.” 

Dorian smirked and licked his lips. “So was I.”

It was clear to them both that despite Cole’s best intentions their fight wasn’t over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's done, yay! Now I have to decide what to finish next.


End file.
